


Blur

by patroclux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Extreme Pain, Gen, Heavy Angst, Major Spoilers, Pain, Starkiller Base, hurt/comfort elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patroclux/pseuds/patroclux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han Solo knew he would not survive. In a darker corner of his subconscious, a voice whispered to him the truth. He could see the conflict in his son's dark eyes, though he witnessed only a glimpse of the agony. Daring to look hard enough, he saw which side would win. There was no time for change. There was no backup plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blur

**Author's Note:**

> THERE ARE MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THE FORCE AWAKENS BELOW. If you haven't seen the movie, I would highly recommend that you postpone reading this until you have. You've been warned.

_" There is a tightness in my chest and I wish it away,  
_ _There is a wrongness in my heart and I wish it were not so. "_

 

“I’m being torn apart.” For once, dark eyes shone absent of their usual unfeeling, impassioned gleam. He was not the fabled Kylo Ren. Here, in this moment, he was Ben Solo. Lost, confused, out of control. “I know what I have to do.” A hushed tone, now. There was a sudden pressure heavy on his chest, breathing made impossible, throat constricting around his voice. “But I don’t know if I have the strength to do it.”

Desperation made itself painfully obvious.

“I want to be free of this pain.”

A lapse into silence; nothing more than the fading shaft of light illuminating them and two silhouettes casting shadows from above. There seemed to be no sounds save for those of the whipping wind and of his own pounding heart. No sight before him except the face of his father, the face he knew so well.

A face he caught mere traces of in reflections, a face he obscured.

Pleading eyes, understanding eyes; an ultimate forgiveness he had never once imagined. He wanted nothing more than to collapse into a familiar embrace, to feel at home and with purpose once more – because it would be so _easy_ –

No. He stopped himself. That never had been, and never would be, an option.

Was he simply a creature of the light, deeply entangled in the darkness? Or was he destined to be here, now, to make this decision, to choose for himself what road he followed? He had always strayed too far from the light, having been attracted to the mysteries and conundrums he was only now beginning to understand. There had been a significant _lack_ of goodness in him from the start.

He was not Ben Solo. The face in the mirror may be, the twine around his heart, perhaps – but his mind, no. Not quite; not always. There, he was Kylo Ren. There was the only belonging he strove for. Blood and family were distractions to keep him from power, from _victory_.

He would break those chains.

“Will you help me?”

Steadily, he held out the Force-user’s weapon of choice. A legend, a strength, a unique power contained in a barely stable beam of pure energy. Both hands gripped the haft loosely, extended towards his father.

This was the only offering he could – would – make. Relinquishing a responsibility he had never wanted nor deserved.

“Of course,” came the reply. “Anything.”

A single gloved hand took hold of the weapon, and for the briefest of moments their hands touched for what would be the last time.

Han Solo knew he would not survive. In a darker corner of his subconscious, a voice whispered to him the truth. He could _see_ the conflict in his son’s dark eyes, though he witnessed only a glimpse of the agony. Daring to look hard enough, he saw which side would win. There was no time for change. There was no backup plan.

 _For once_ , he mused.                     

Ren hesitated.

“It’s too late.”

Han shook his head. “No, it’s not.” He smiled softly, remorsefully. “Never too late for the truth. Leave here with me. Come home.” A shaky breath left him, as he met his son’s eyes. He knew that wasting such time as they were was pointless, but Ben.. had to know. “Your mother misses you.”

He had to know just how much they cared. Because regardless of what he said and what crimes he committed, what side he took and what roads he walked, they would always, _always_ care.

A weakness long forgotten shook Ren back to reality. Dampness on his cheeks. Tears. A pain he had locked away.

The light was fading, the sky darkening. The star nearly gone now, the planet itself already doomed to a dismal fate.

 _Fate_ , he thought. One word – a key turning in its lock.

Light, refulgent and cutting, pierced through his father’s chest. They were surrounded solely by the red shine, a telltale crackling filling their ears.

Distantly, Kylo Ren thought he heard screams, shouts layered with the sweet anguish of loss. He forced himself to focus on Han, to let the words spill from his mouth.

“ _Thank you._ "

And then his father went tumbling, falling through the air without a sound. Kylo was taken to his knees by some – some _force_. There was pain; an ache in his side that shouldn’t be there, but it was nothing compared to the numbness. To feel nothing was worse than feeling everything at once.

_No, no, no – I’m sorry, I’m so sorry –_

His mind screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in actual pain. I can't believe I did this. 
> 
> I will be forever mourning Han Solo. Oh god. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed (although why would you I'm dying), and feel free to leave requests/suggestions! Thanks for reading. :)


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